


So Below

by koganeisms (reiirae)



Series: As Above, So Below [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Death, Drowning, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 17:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13275975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiirae/pseuds/koganeisms
Summary: 1/2He wonders what’s happening to him, why he’s able to recall events in his life with such clarity. Maybe the idea of your life flashing before your eyes prior to death is real - not like anyone would know, considering nobody ever quite made it back from the grave - but he doesn’t really care, anyway.





	So Below

Cold. That was the only way to explain the sensations coursing through Lance’s body, even if he felt it were too basic. It was cold, freezing cold, and his limbs were giving out and failing him. He felt his body sink ever deeper, below the waves, too far away from the surface. Legs like lead weights, too heavy to push and bring him back to the surface.

There was a yell when he’d fallen, and whoever it was clearly expected Lance’s head to pop back up moments later. The freezing cold of the water had shocked the boy’s body, however, and his limbs had been rendered useless in this hopeless fight for survival. 

Momentarily, he considered how the ocean was so cold here. Maybe it got colder as you went deeper? Lance couldn’t say he knew. He wasn’t the most active listener in his school classes, despite a growing interest in science. It had been warm, close to land at least, and he expect the same here. Realistically, though, he knew that pondering the water temperature meant nothing, because his survival was so unlikely. 

It was strange, letting himself give up to the water. His eyes were shut tight, and even if he made the mistake of opening them he wouldn’t be able to figure out how far down he was. The pressure on his lungs increased, and he knew they wouldn’t hold out much longer, either.

The meagre amount of remaining air escaped his lungs all at once, when the building pressure became too much for them. Lance had taken in a mouthful of water, and his body instinctively attempted to choke it back up - only to be met by another mouthful of murky saltwater. This was the only time Lance felt himself try to push upwards - his body’s instincts screamed at him to move, find air, survive - but he knew he was too weak and too far gone to save himself now.

A shark could’ve killed him by now, given him a death less painful than slowly drowning, but luck had never been on Lance’s side to begin with. The world would never allow him a slightly easier way out - only the most painful for Lance McClain.

He was choking - nothing would save him now, nothing short of a miracle, and yet he found himself surprisingly calm. He wasn’t distressed, or saddened, or angry at himself. Lance was just...relaxed. His fear of death throughout life had been near non-existent, considering the constant risks he’d taken. But it was a short life, only making it to the tender age of twelve, and he realised the devastation is family would feel. They’d probably never even see his body again. 

That was almost enough to spur Lance into action, if it weren’t for the knowledge that even his best efforts could not save his life now. A watery grave was best fitting for somebody of Lance’s interests - he had spent most of his short life by the small beach close to his home, playing in the water with his younger siblings and participating in water sports with his two elder siblings. The perks of being a middle brother, he’d joke. 

Did either of his siblings see him fall? Surely by now they would realise something was wrong, to get help, and yet still no help came. The desperation bubbles up as he continued to choke, finally replacing the eerily calm sensation. He doesn’t have long, he can feel it - his body is too tired to fight much longer. 

He wonders what’s happening to him, why he’s able to recall events in his life with such clarity. Maybe the idea of your life flashing before your eyes prior to death is real - not like anyone would know, considering nobody ever quite made it back from the grave - but he doesn’t really care, anyway. What’s it worth. It’ll all be over soon, because there’s no air and no hope, only dark and water and death. 

And eventually, it stops fighting back. His body gives out, he stops choking, and he takes his last lungful of water before his vision fades to black. Lance couldn’t help but think, moments before his own death, that it wasn’t the way he wanted to go. Not in such a drawn-out, painful manner.

But nothing quite goes the way you want it to, does it?


End file.
